A/N: Just a random drabble that popped into my head at two in the morning. I just pray that it makes some sense. Post "Teamwork" ChasexCameron
Disclaimer: I own a gray and red oversized tennis ball with the word "House" on it. Unfortunately, that's about as close as I'll ever get to owning the show.
Oblivion
Love is a great and terrible thing. Chase had heard the rather clichéd phrase a million times over, and yet only now was he beginning to realize the universal truth of such words. Love was gripping, it made one impulsive and absent minded so that you often did wild, rash things.
Like kiss a nine year old. Chase muses, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips while his blue eyes remain icy and hollow.
It is love that has brought Chase to this.
Though the door is closed, Chase can still make out the muffled shuffling noises of Allison packing up her belongings in the bedroom. He can barely discern the sound of tears mixed in with the rustle of clothing and the zipping of luggage. She is crying. The thought makes his heart ace horribly, and he turns his eyes away from the door. He doesn't want to feel, to give into the rising tide of misery that threatens to engulf him if he lets himself slip too far into its depths.
So Chase lets his heart and mind go numb. He allows himself to slip into that all too familiar realm of peaceful emptiness…forgetting the pain and sorrow…the overwhelming loneliness…just letting everything go…
This floating state of oblivion is something Chase has grown accustomed to over the years. Love is a great and terrible thing, and Chase has a deep attraction to all destructive forms of it.
He had loved his father: that lying, cheating, empty, careless bastard. He had loved him. He had loved him and his cold eyes. He had loved him and his distant manner. He had loved him and the way he never called, never cared, never spoke to him with affection. He had loved him and the way his thundering yells were still audible from a floor above as he screamed profanities at the woman he'd sworn to love till death.
He had loved him and the way he never said "I love you too."
Chase hates his father. He tells everyone so- Allison, Foreman, House… Chase hates his father. He hates him and the fact that he will always love him.
Chase had loved his mother too: that pathetic, abusive, dependent, alcoholic sham of a woman that he had called his mother. His sad mother. His beautiful mother. He had loved her, loved her with every fiber of his being. Loved her and her hugs that left him in bruises, her bedtime stories of curse words and broken glass, her goodbye kisses sick and slippery with gin…He had tried to control her, to feed her, to clothe her, to keep her normal and safe and alive. Because he loved her.
She left him with nothing but a broken heart and house that reeked of stale alcohol and vomit.
But he loves her still. To this day.
Chase has always loved with vigor bordering on aggression. Once he has given his heart to something, he loses himself in it. He told House once that he had loved his father until he figured out it was easier to just not care. No emotion. No disappointments.
The truth is if he lets himself become too attached to something, he'll never be able to let go.
Chase hears a muffles curse as Allison stumbles over some object in the semi-darkness. He chuckles softly, his eyes glassy, and wonders if he should go see if she is alright.
No. He reminds himself. No thought. No feeling. Just drifting.
Emptiness. No pain. No grief. No love.
Many people see him as conceited and careless. But if you remain aloof then you don't have to become attached to others. You won't have to feel the hurt and the pain and the utter misery that will come with their loss. You can float above the water, fingers grazing the surface, but you won't feel the chill of stepping out of the pool.
Chase had loved God. He had loved Him and His capability for forgiveness. For His glory. For His infinite, selfless love of all those undeserving. For His good grace towards all the poor sinners of the earth. He had loved Him for all that He had stood for.
Chase had loved Him and the way he would never be able to put his full faith in Him.
His life was the unholy love child of all the Seven Deadly Sins. How could any God of such prolific benevolence forsake one of his sacred children? How could He leave him to such a fate?
There sounds the dull, metallic clink of metal, and Chase looks up to see the doorknob to the bedroom door turning. Allison is coming out. Allison.
Chase had loved Allison- loves Allison. He loves the way she always smells like lilacs after rain. He loves the way her golden hair falls in neat little curves around her perfect pink face. He loves the funny little way her lips purse whenever she's upset about something. He loves her light laughter like the chiming of bells. He loves her. He loves her so much that his heart yearns and aches and throbs with it.
He loves her and the way that she cannot love him back.
She's standing in front of him now. Beside her rests a small bag of her belongings. Her eyes are red rimmed and her lower lip trembles as though she's fighting back tears.
Chase gazes up at her and feels so much and yet nothing at all. She has made her choice. He can respect that. She has morals that she must stick to, it is one of the things he loves about her: her firm stance behind whatever she believes in. What he did…it wasn't wrong, not in his eyes, but it is too much for her to handle. She cannot fix him, cannot change him, cannot bend him and sculpt him and remake him into someone she can love.
He loves her and the fact that she will never fully understand who he really is.
They don't speak to one another, and the silence is heavy with strain of both their conflicting emotions.
Her eyes spell guilt, grief, but also a strong sense of resolution.
His eyes are blank and murky, but his heart is writhing with love despair.
Allison leans forward and warps her arms around his neck, pulling him close to her in a gesture that can only be translated as: farewell. He doesn't react to the smell of her, or the feel of her, or the rapid thud of her heart against his shoulder. He doesn't even lift and arm to hold her tightly back.
Their embrace is short. Just like their marriage. Just like his childhood. Just like their love.
Chase watches her turn and exit the apartment, dragging the suitcase along in her wake. He reaches up to feel the slow beating of his heart. The sound echoes feebly- hollow and empty.
Once he if he lets himself become too attached to something, he'll never be able to let go.
Love is a great and terrible thing, and Chase watches on as it devours yet another piece of his tattered soul.
A/N: Please review! ^^